Brian Schweitzer’s challenge: Montana Democrats

A few days before last November’s elections, Brian Schweitzer — the bolo-tie wearing Montana governor whose gregarious personality and folksy style made him a hit with voters — swung by an evening gathering to rally supporters behind Sen. Jon Tester and fellow Democrats.

Schweitzer’s rousing speech, in the copper mining town of Butte, brought Democratic activists to their feet. But it was significant in another way: It was a rare moment when Schweitzer helped Tester in his hard-fought reelection battle.

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And it was also the last time the two men spoke.

Asked about Schweitzer’s lack of effort behind his campaign, Tester said this week with a big laugh: “We didn’t need him.”

For Democrats who know Schweitzer well, it’s hardly a surprise: Through eight years as governor, Schweitzer developed a rocky relationship with a number of fellow state Democrats, including Tester and veteran Sen. Max Baucus. His bombastic personality, flair for the dramatic and showmanship style — the same attributes that lifted his image in the eyes of Montanans and helped him win two terms as governor — often rubbed fellow pols there the wrong way.

But as he prepares for his own 2014 Senate run to fill the seat left vacant by the retiring Baucus, Schweitzer may need the Montana political machine built by Baucus — and used effectively by Tester — to pull off a victory in a state crucial for the Democratic Senate majority next year.

Building back those burnt bridges won’t be easy.

Asked to characterize his relationship with Schweitzer, Baucus would only say: “He was a good governor. I haven’t talked to him in a long time. He hasn’t called me.”

Schweitzer, up in his ranch in a remote area of Montana, was unavailable for an interview, an associate said. But in an interview with POLITICO in Butte last fall, Schweitzer defended his efforts to help Tester and downplayed any friction with fellow Montana Democrats — particularly the two senators.

“Everything is fine,” he said. “When folks go off to Washington, D.C., they are a long ways away from here. I got state issues, they got federal issues.”

Interviews with nearly two dozen Montana Democrats paint a picture of Schweitzer as a polarizing politician. His allies adore him, calling him an affable and popular figure incredibly loyal to his friends, who had enormous political successes as governor and would stop at nothing to achieve his objectives.

His critics describe him as a hot-tempered, spiteful and go-it-alone politician — eager to boost his own image while holding little regard for helping the team, something few forget in a small state like Montana.

“He doesn’t do anything if it doesn’t benefit him,” said one Montana Democrat and former Schweitzer ally, who, like many others interviewed for this story, asked not to be identified. “He’s an incredibly self-serving politician.”

Added another: “He’s the most vindictive politician I’ve ever been in contact with.”

His friends have a more positive take on Schweitzer’s demeanor, but even they don’t dispute he could rub his would-be allies the wrong way.

“He’s pretty direct, he’s straightforward at times, I’ll even say a bit blunt,” said Dennis McDonald, a former state Democratic Party chairman under Schweitzer and a cattle rancher in south central Montana. “In our party, we don’t hesitate to criticize one another and sometimes to get a bit testy.”

If Schweitzer jumps into the race, as is widely expected, he would amount to the Democrats’ best and perhaps only chance at keeping the Senate seat in their column, given that he left office with high approval ratings. Guy Cecil, executive director of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee in Washington, the beneficiary of a recent $100,000 donation from Baucus, said Schweitzer would have “tremendous support if he decides to run.”

But Schweitzer could still be a wild card, given his penchant for off-the-cuff and, at times, off-putting remarks.

As governor, Schweitzer had a knack for garnering headlines, including by racking up 95 vetoes, 74 of which came after Republicans swept state elections in 2010. And he became known for using his own branding iron at public events to place the word “veto” on a piece of legislation, often fodder for the evening news.

But he’d often perform in front of the cameras in ways that could also ruffle feathers. He once showed up at a Bozeman city council meeting and accused local politicians of squandering economic stimulus money; another time he berated a state Democratic leader over legislation he considered unconstitutional. He was rarely afraid of claiming credit for initiatives that fellow Democrats championed, including over an effort to protect an area of the scenic Flathead River that Baucus had long pushed.